


Billy, Psychopaths and Stupid Idiots

by NotYourHousekeeperDear



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Evil Mary, Humor, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 07:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3111872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotYourHousekeeperDear/pseuds/NotYourHousekeeperDear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With a little help from Wiggins, John emerges from the dark depths of depression and back at 221B and in Sherlock's life.  And this time Sherlock has a plan to keep him there...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Am A Stupid Idiot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GoSherlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoSherlocked/gifts).



> This story is for the Lovely Gosherlocked, who wanted Love, Love, Love with a touch of humour and angst and definitely no Johnlockary! Hope she enjoys x

John stared at the ceiling as he listened to Billy Wiggins thump his door down.

“If you don’t come to the door John, AT ONCE! I’m… I’m banging this down”.

The thing about depression, thought John, was that it was a bit like a wet blanket. Cold, uncomfortable and soppy, but it immobilised you, froze you to the spot. 

“I’m serious! Sherlock told me to!” Wiggins warned.

Bloody Sherlock. 

“What on earth,” began John, glaring at Wiggins as he opened the door in his T-shirt and boxers, “Do you want?”

Wiggins grinned at him.

“Get dressed mate, you are taking me out for breakfast!”

There it was again, that annoying grin. John clenched his fists.

“No. I am going back to BED” John pushed against the door only to find Wiggins had wedged himself partly inside. 

“Nah, breakfast mate. Sherlock said to tell you if you didn’t he’d start using again.“  
Wiggins, grinned. 

“I mean, it’s all the same to me really, I’ve got some great stuff I could get hold of for him, make a bit of packet for me-self if we go down that track actually…” he added thoughtfully.

John stared at Wiggins a moment.

“Give me a minute,” he said quietly. 

That just couldn’t happen, Sherlock on drugs. After everything, there was no way John would let that him go down that track. Sherlock knew that John would think that of course. John Watson, ex-soldier, doctor, idiot… so easily played.   
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“So,“ began Billy, stuffing a forkful of his fry-up in his mouth and chewing as he talked, “I did this counselling course through the local council…”

“Oh for God’s sake,“ said John, choking on his coffee.

“And, I told Sherlock about it, and he said to come counsel you, that I’d be at least as good as that bird you had if not slightly better given my well-developed deduction capacities”

“Oh Sherlock said that did he? “ John found himself grinning.

“Well, not in those words exactly, but I could tell what he meant,” Billy replied as he cut his sausage.

“What exactly did Sherlock say, Billy?”

“He said, ‘Get him to talk, you idiot. I can’t, so you need to!” and then he kind of pushed me against the wall using my shirt collar… almost tore it, actually,” Billy rubbed his neck as he spoke, as if smoothing out the marks.

“Well, thanks Billy, but you can finish your breakfast and then tell Sherlock that I am fine and don’t need to talk,” John said firmly.

“No offence mate, “ said Billy, “But you do need to talk. I mean your assassin wife, who I actually always thought was weird by the way, not that the great Sherlock Holmes would ever listen to me!” Billy pierced his egg with a fork. 

“Anyway, the weird bird tried to kill your best mate, then your best mate told you to get back with her anyway because you are attracted to psychos or some such rubbish and anyway she was up the duff preggers and then it turns out that she never was preggers, and it was all fake,” 

Billy took another big bite of his fried egg. 

“But your best mate had known that all along and just didn’t tell you because he knew you would die if you left her, and then she tried to kill your best mate AGAIN, and almost succeeded this time if it hadn’t been for..,” he continued. 

“Ok, Billy, that’s quite enough!” John said firmly standing up, as he felt the anger boil up through his body.

“So you need to say what you are feeling John, my counselling teacher told us, you need to let it out”

“What I am feeling! Great Billy! Look tell Sherlock I am fine and don’t need a counsellor!” screamed John, rising.

“You are feeling sad! Pissed! Stupid! Dumb! An idiot! Worse than an idiot even! A moron!!!“ Billy thumped his fork down on the table. 

John stared at Billy dumbfounded, his face reflecting the bemusement of the customers in the greasy spoon. 

“I am a stupid idiot!” John screamed back.

“You sure are, mate, “ smiled Billy, shuffling back into his chair and picking up his fork.

John sat back down.

All of a sudden, he felt better than he had done in ages.


	2. The Dossier

14th February 2014

Attention: Mr M. W. Holmes

Re: Incident at Dr John H Watson’s Home: 54 Ealing Place, Islington, N1 5JH 

We are writing to inform you of the sequence of events we believe to have occurred on the 2nd of February 2014. As directed, no action has at yet been taken for the crimes described below. 

10.51 am: Dr John H Watson returns home early from his morning shift to discover his wife, Agent 51278 AKA ‘Mary Morstan’ adjusting her prosthetic pregnancy belt.

11.07am: Agent 51278 reveals that her pregnancy is fake and that Mr Sherlock Holmes was aware of this fact.

11.09am Dr Watson sends the following message by SMS to Mr Sherlock Holmes “You’ve done it again. I cannot forgive you this time”

11.38am: Mr Sherlock Holmes arrives at 54 Ealing Street and enters the front room. He directs Dr Watson to leave the premises. Dr Watson refuses to leave and attacks Mr Holmes in the front room.

11.45am: Agent 51278 pulls out an unregistered pistol from the kitchen and points it at Mr Holmes. She confesses to Mr Holmes that she is a double agent working for a terrorist organisation based in Afghanistan. 

11.46am; Dr John Watson shoots and kills Agent 51278 using an unregistered hand gun drawn from his left pocket.

12.45pm: D. I Greg Lestrade arrives at the scene. The police statement reads as follows:

“An unfortunate series of events lead to Mr Sherlock Holmes shooting Ms Morstan in self-defence. Forensics at the crime scene confirms this likely scenario. “

12.49: D.I. Lestrade’s statement and file on the case was confiscated by MI5, who have subsequently destroyed all evidence and reference to these events.

1.15pm; Agent 67301 directed D.I. Lestrade to forget the above events at the insistence of Her Majesty. D.I Lestrade agreed. 

3.15pm: D.I Lestrade was promoted to Chief Inspector of his division. 

Please destroy this dossier on receipt.

Sincerely, 

Agent 67301


	3. Cover Up

John tentatively knocked on the black door. 221B had once been home, the first home he had known since coming home from war, and now it was odd to feel as uncertain as he stood outside.  


“Come in, dear,” said Mrs Hudson, opening the door. “It’s always good to see you, “ she smiled.

 

“Thank you, Mrs Hudson” replied John briskly, finding the formalities add to his sense of unease.  
Gone are the days I can just walk in.

“John,” said Sherlock, “Thank God you are here. My brother was just leaving” He glared at Mycroft, who was sitting in John’s chair.

“Hmm,” said Mycroft, rising stiffly as he reached for the umbrella resting at the side of the chair. “Actually, there are a few things I’d like to discuss with Dr Watson, brother-mine, if you don’t mind, before I make my departure,“ 

“Things?” demanded Sherlock, angrily, rising to meet Mycroft at the chair. 

“Things that are quite reasonable to discuss given this is the second time I am covering up a murder charge for his benefit. “ replied Mycroft acidly.

“Oh PLEASE, “replied Sherlock sardonically, “MI5 stuffed up again, John did you a big favour, without John…” 

“Right,” said John, cutting in, “Let’s discuss then, and shall we Mycroft?” Holding his body straight, he marched up to Mycroft and Sherlock.

“Well….” began Mycroft, hesitating.

“Well indeed, Mr Holmes, “said John, words flying out of his mouth before he got the chance to edit them. 

“Let’s see, your brother risks life and limb to rid the UK of Moriaty’s web. While he is away you allow an agent assassin to begin a relationship with his best friend as part of a deal you and your friends have made with a hostile government. Now it just so happens that at my wedding, that’s right MY WEDDING, Mary gets a telegraph from our good friend Charles Augustus Magnusen, AKA, CAM. Sherlock realises Mary is in fact a double agent, and acts to get me to stay with her in order to protect me from death. Hence the baby, hence, Sherlock’s near death experience, hence bloody me shooting that bitch to save your brother, because sure enough, you all powerful Mycroft Holmes were playing with your umbrella thinking about your next chess move! Cover up, my lily white arse!” John spat out the last word, shaking with rage.

“Seems it is time to go after all brother, dear,“ Mycroft responded, tight-lipped, “John, “he nodded.

He exited the room swiftly. Sherlock plonked down on the sofa.

There was silence. 

“My lily-white arse?” Sherlock giggled.

“You’re the one who has been trying to get me to talk to Wiggins” John grinned back, sitting next to Sherlock. 

“Ah yes,” said Sherlock, “Thought you might want to talk it out that’s all”. Sherlock stared at the ground.

The room fell into silence once more. John looked over at Sherlock’s profile. The mop of curls was bent down, staring at a spot in the carpet.

“Can I move back in here?” asked John, the words seeming to come out of nowhere. 

Sherlock’s face lit up with a stellar smile, his features crinkling with an expression John could only identify as joy. 

“Of course!” he replied quickly.

“Thank you,” smiled John back. There was something about Sherlock’s expression that filled him with lightness and possibility. “Mwah!” he said exuberantly, leaning over impulsively to place a kiss on Sherlock’s cheek .

Sherlock jumped and stared open eyed at John. 

“Mmm… that’s quite alright. I mean we do have your bedroom.., I mean Mrs Hudson’s spare bedroom upstairs, as you know, and I am always happy for help with the rent… that is if you can pay, when you go back to work I mean, I mean if you are up to it... “Sherlock spoke quickly, the words tangling themselves as he voiced them.

John shuffled awkwardly on the sofa to create some more space between him and Sherlock. There was something so adorable about Sherlock when he stumbled his words like that. He almost felt like leaning over for another kiss, just to throw him off balance again. But that would be too cruel… 

“Perfect, “ John smiled at Sherlock, and reached for the newspaper on the coffee table.


	4. Billy's New Assignment

“Now Billy, “ commanded Sherlock, pacing in the lounge room, while Billy perched open mouth on the couch. “I’d like you to find John Watson a woman, “

“What?” replied Billy.

“A woman, you know Billy, they have two X chromosomes, wear pink and high heels and things. Surely you know what a woman is Billy!” Sherlock spoke quickly, frustrated by the conversation.

“I know what a woman is Sherlock, believe you me,“ Billy said, “But why do I have to find John one?”

“Um, never you mind... Now get out a pen!” Sherlock stared at Billy.

Billy remained on the couch, gaping at Sherlock.

“You do know how to write don’t you?” Sherlock said to Billy, “Mycroft told me that the government education system was going to pot, but I have to say I didn’t think things had gotten that bad!”

“Yes, I know how to write” snapped Billy. “What am I writing, exactly?”

“A list of requirements” replied Sherlock swiftly. “Now here is a pen and paper, now go!” He handed Billy a notebook and a biro.

“Number 1, “said Sherlock, returning to his pacing “She must be nice, but not too nice... John doesn’t go for too nice, he goes for psychopaths really, but not a psychopath… Mary was a psychopath who seemed nice, so this time, maybe a nice lady who seems just slightly like a psychopath.”

“What?” 

“LISTEN Billy!” shouted Sherlock, “What kind of an apprentice are you? Number 1: A nice psychopath, it’s really not that hard!” Sherlock sighed loudly.

“Sorry boss, right,” Billy scribbled on the pad.

“Number 2. She must live in a small flat, with room only for one. There can be no question of John moving in with her. Preferably a single bed…” Sherlock continued thoughtfully.

“Nice psychopath with single bed, got it” said Billy, “Next?”

“Number 3, must have initially interesting occupation, that turns out to be a highly boring occupation. The idea is to give him enough to lure him in, but not enough to keep him there too long. Something like… a police officer who works in the tax department, or karate master who teaches kindergarten kids…”

“Hmm, so what should I write?” Asked Billy, confused.

“Number 3. Boring exciting job.” Sherlock said, “Honestly, do I have to spoon food you everything?” he grumbled.

“Number 4?” asked Billy, scribbling frantically.

“Number 4 is sex. Must be boring in bed” said Sherlock.

“Oh, and how am I going to find that one out?” demanded Billy

“Have I taught you nothing about deduction, apprentice?” Sherlock responded.

“Point taken,” responded Billy. “Five?”

“Must HATE me” replied Sherlock.

“Well, this looks easy, “said Billy drily, “All I need to do is find a nice psychopathic tax department police officer with a one bedder, who is dull in the sack and hates you”

“Come on,” grinned Sherlock, “The ‘hates me’ bit is easy”

Billy grinned back, “But WHY Sherlock, WHY?”

Sherlock was silent for a moment and stood still. He turned directly to face Billy, 

“Because I never want John Watson to leave me again, never ever,” said Sherlock.

“The guy shot his bird for you, he’s not going anywhere,” replied Billy.

“Well, this time, I’m being more careful, that’s all” said Sherlock.


	5. The Nice Psychopath

John slipped back into life at Baker Street easily, like putting on an old pair of denim jeans. Seeing Sherlock every day, whether it was in the kitchen cooking God-knows what kind of body part on the hob, pacing up and down the lounge or slumped in sulkiness on the couch, felt natural, like the way things were supposed to be were restored. How good John felt again, how completely at ease he was, came over him one morning almost as a shock as he watched Sherlock pacing whilst he read the newspaper from his armchair. This was the way he had always felt at 221, but he had never noticed how darn it good it was, not until he had left.

“Why are you pacing?” John asked astutely glancing at Sherlock over his newspaper.

“Um, no reason, “replied Sherlock briskly, almost defensively, John thought. “ Billy is bringing over someone a bit later that’s all.”

“Case?” asked John.

“What?” Sherlock was staring at his skull on the mantelpiece. “Oh, yes, um case… something like that, yes.”

John put his newspaper down.

“Sherlock? What’s going on?” 

“No, um nothing…” the door knocker punctuated Sherlock’s words, “Um here they are…” 

Before John had the chance to question him further, Sherlock had glided down the stairs.

John stood up, his heart pounding in the familiar way as he waited for Sherlock’s plan to become clear. They always did eventually, whether it was a brilliant plot to get a hardened jewel thief to confess to his mother or a convoluted manipulation to make Molly give him a corpse overnight. John had almost given up the asking, because the surprise was what got him going, made him feel alive, made Sherlock himself so God-damn addictive….

“John, “said Sherlock. His baritone low and oozing charm, “I’d like you to meet Tessa,”

John held out his hand to the woman standing behind Billy. She was blonde and voluptuous, a Mary doppelganger essentially. He smiled tightly. “John Watson. Nice to meet you, “

The four of them sat down awkwardly. Tessa took the interview chair, as John’s thoughts took flight. 

 

“Um, Tessa, “began Billy proudly, “Is a forensic analyst”

“I’m a forensic accountant actually. I analyse the accounts of failed businesses,” corrected Tessa sharply. 

“Well that’s just boring isn’t it? There is no exciting there at all, is there Billy?” Sherlock glared at Billy.

“Sherlock…” began John, watching Tessa colour.

“No it’s fine. I actually think Mr Holmes is pretty boring himself. I’ve seen your website and it’s as dull as an old lead pencil. Still, I’d be happy to look at your accounts when your consultant detective agency inevitably FAILS!” Tessa retorted.

Sherlock glared at her. 

“And she is not even slightly nice,” continued Sherlock looking at Billy.

“What is going on here, Sherlock?” John felt as if he was watching some sort of bizarre tennis match.

“Oh nothing, John… So where do you live Tessa?”

“A one- bedder in Canary Wharf” smiled Tessa, obviously proud of this fact.

“See!” said Billy pointedly.

“Oh yes. It’s a one-bedder, but it’s enormous! I’m looking to rent out a section actually. You wouldn’t be interested would you, John?” continued Tessa. She gave John a sweet, if not slightly seductive smile.

“Ok, that’s it!” Sherlock got up, “Everyone out!” He shouted.

“Sherlock, that’s rude!” John protested.

“Oh, I don’t mean you John… hey, what are you doing?” He glared at Tessa who was rummaging through her bag.

“Um nothing really?” Tessa responded.

“No! Not nothing! You were going to give John a business card, weren’t you Tessa! And not any business card, a red business card. Red, because you are good in the sack! Which I could tell even if I hadn’t seen the card, by the way she crossed and uncrossed her legs on the chair and the way she tucks her hair around her ear. And then to top it all off the seductive smile! You are way too hot!“  
“Are you making a pass at me?” smiled Tessa at Sherlock.

“Just get her out Billy! NOW!” Sherlock shouted.

“Believe you me, I am out of here, weirdo!” Tessa stored out the flat, slamming the door as John and Billy gaped at her.

“You too, Billy” said Sherlock firmly.

“What? You can’t say she didn’t hate you at least” retorted Billy.

“I said, OUT!”

“Fine!” snorted Billy as he stormed down the stairs.

Sherlock sighed as the door slammed and adjusted his jacket.

“Sorry about that, John” he said calmly.

“Sherlock, what was that about?” John felt as if he had just witnessed a train crash. 

“She was supposed to be nice… I told him I wanted you to meet a nice psychopath with a small one bedder and an exciting boring job… and she was supposed to be boring in bed. That was important. I thought I had taught Billy better than that...” mumbled Sherlock.

John took a break, experience told him to go slow here.

“OK, why did you want me to meet a nice one bedder psychopath with an exciting job who was boring in the sack?”  
“Because, I don’t want you to go again,” Sherlock said quietly looking at the ground.

“Sherlock…” began John

“You don’t need to say It John. I know you wanted the kind of life with a wife and a kid, like the one you chose with Mary. Maybe, I need to find you a homeless nice psychopath who would be prepared to live here…” Sherlock said thoughtfully.

“Sherlock…” John interjected.

“Oh Ok. She can be good in bed. But quiet. If she is going to live here, I need to be able to think sometimes in quiet and she needs to tolerate the violin. Maybe a deaf and dumb nice psychopath who is homeless but great in bed. I can try Billy again. Do you think I should give him another chance?” Sherlock asked.

John walked towards Sherlock and grabbed his hands. Suddenly all was clear.

“Shut up you idiot.” John squeezed Sherlock’s hand. 

“John, I...” Sherlock started, staring at John’s hands on his own. 

“When I shot Mary, “ John began, “I shot her for you.”

“Yes, I know, John. But you were very angry with me, because I lied… I mean kept the truth about the baby from you. As usual to save your life, of course, but that’s never stopped you hitting me before.”

“Yes, I was angry Sherlock, “ John continued, “I was angry because Mary had stopped me from being with you again.”

“John…” Sherlock said softly.

“And being with you again,“ John said looking up into Sherlock’s angular face, gazing at him now puzzled. “Is what I want. Being with you again is all I want.”

John reached for Sherlock’s mouth and opened it gently with his lounge as he caressed his soft lips. Sherlock breathed in sharply, hesitating for a moment, before responding with passion, licking and sucking John’s mouth as he grabbed his hair, pulling his face closer.

“John,” said Sherlock gasping for air.

“You are simply the nicest psychopath there is,” smiled John as Sherlock scooped him up in his arms.

THE END.


End file.
